Flowers From The Reaper

Her arms refuse to shake from old age.

My blade begins to throb from my increasing rage

No family, no reason to live anymore.

Let me deliver thee, to the angels and golden gates behind my door.

Medicine is madness, death is destiny.

Those were things I used to say.

Until she taught me how love and life wake her up everyday.

I felt free,but sadly my task was not complete.

I found a new perspective in performing the inevitable. 

It was wrong to take a life. leaving others empty and vulnerable.

This woman had no one but pills and a cane.

She was not phased about her constant pain.

I appeared one day to help her around her home.

No one should ever be alone.

She could not see me or hear me, for I am a ghost with a scythe.

I spent an entire day with her, until that fateful night.

She collapsed to the floor, I cried witnessing the end of her life.

I made her a funeral with love. Buried her with life. Then I realized that darkness was always light.